All was silent at A.R.C.
A faint string of smoke rose up from Flower's cigarette.
He looked up at the clock. It was about time now...
"Time to go make some enemies..." He smiled nervously at the ghoul next to him, hiding his mild fear for repercussions.
After that, the DJ took one last drag from his cigarette and dumped it in the ashtray next to its other fallen comrades. Maxwell's smoking habit increased in times of stress. It was evident by the thick murky cloud dancing on the ceiling. After all, the broadcast room was designed without any windows so that there would be no disturbance from outside. Therefor it was impossible to ventilate the room, except via the door, which Maxy had opened just a crack.
Curtis smiled back slightly, but remained silent as to not break the DJ's focus.
Rook fired several rounds at Hamilton's back as he ran, not hesitating. Merciless. The bullets flew past Rook- Hamilton was facing away and on the move, Rook was in no danger.
When the slaver disappeared down the manhole, Rook snatched the last grenade from Morgan's belt, yanked the pin, counted to two and chucked it down after Hamilton. He heard several dinks as it bounced along metal, and the following explosion, but was clueless as to whether it got the slaver or not.
Rook then knelt next to Morgan and applied pressure to her stomach wound.
He should not have let her convince him otherwise. He should have killed Hamilton.
Heather rushed out and dumped her bag by Morgan's side, quickly rummaging through it as Rook put pressure on the wound.
"I-I need Garry for this, I've never done one this bad before..." She stammered, quickly drawing out a towel and passing it to Rook.
"Use that!" She commanded, going through her bag some more...
"F-fuck..." Morgan groaned, her voice barely a whisper from the pain. "I sh-shoulda never left..." She breathed heavily and raggedly.
"G-gotta stop the w-wound...quick. F-fifteen minutes from now, I'll be b-burning on my own stomach acid."
Rook used the towel as commanded. Rook decided he shouldn't tell her it could be quicker than fifteen minutes.
"I... I need to disinfect the wound before we can close it!" She remembered, taking a deep breath as she remembered Garry's instructions, though last time they got by on sheer luck.
She turned around and began to rummage through her bag, pulling out a bottle of peroxide from it and clumsily taking hold of the lid as she began to open it, though in truth, she felt like she was grasping at straws here...
"Heather!" Garry snapped, rushing over to the former slave's side as he knelt down beside her.
"It's not like other wounds, we aren't at that stage yet! We need to get 'er inside, on a bed!" Garry snapped, quickly taking the peroxide from his companion's hand.
Rook lifted Morgan up, glancing around, and locked his eyes on an apartment complex. He rushed over to the building, careful to keep Morgan steady, and kicked the door in, leading her up the stairs, and then kicked the door in to a random apartment. It'd seen better days, but their was an old moth-eaten bed in here. He set Morgan down on it.
"Normally we would need to give her blood, and seal the wound using heavy bandages. That will not work. She has severe tissue damage. Get stimpaks, pilots lights from the oven, and a kitchen knife.
"We have a scalpel in the bag, Heather, give Rook the medical supplies!" Garry called over to her, prompting her to nod and empty her bag on the bed, giving him three stimpaks, some towels, the peroxide from earlier and a set of scalpels.
Garry proceeded to look in the oven, looking for Pilot lights, he was able to find one...
Rook immediately injected one stimpak into Morgan, near the wound.
"Now, I need that pilot light and the kitchen knife. Quickly." Rook instructed, his calm tone never faltering.
"Here!" Garry called over, passing the knife and the pilot light over to the Android.
"Anythin' else you need?"
"P-ple...argh..N-no..." Morgan whimpered. "N-no whi-a-wak…"
"No." Rook poured some peroxide over the knife, disinfecting it. He then crushed the glass of the pilot light between his fingers and went over to a pile of carboard rubble. He started a fire, by striking the filaments of the pilot lights together, and let it grow.
"D-don;t..." Morgan pleaded. "J-just...lemme go."
She did not want to get operated on whilst she was still semi-conscious.
Garry nodded and took hold of Morgan's arm, pinning them down to her sides, so that she couldn't move in the event that this hurt, gesturing for Heather to do the same. If she did move, Rook could slip and make things even worse.
Rook stuck the knife in the now grown fire, heating it until the metal was orange and hissed with heat. He then came to Morgan, planted his hand on her knee to hold her hip flat, and began to cauterize the wound, sticking the hot knife into the wound and pressing to the sides of the damaged flesh. The air immediately smelled like burnt meat and there was a loud hiss as he pressed the knife against the wound, slowly closing it.
Morgan screamed out in agony and began trying to thrash herself to get away from the pain almost instantly.
J-jesus fucking fuck!
Rook withdrew the knife once the wound was sealed, and injected the second stimpak into Morgan, near the wound again. He then injected the third into himself, to heal his wounds. The stimpak would augment his synthetic blood.
"She'll live." Said Rook, sitting down next to her. "She just needs rest."
Heather sighed with relief, falling back into a wooden chair on the far side of the room.
"That... Was too close..."
Morgan had fallen unconscious during the operation.
Again...
Morgan sat in her room at camp, all alone. She had no family as far as she could remember. No friends either.
With a quiet sigh she hung her head and sat on the end of her bed.
I'm gonna show them. This contest they're holding for the class. The prize is a pip boy. If I can win that, I'll finally be able to make it out there. Get away from here...
Morgan flopped back on the bed and looked over at her project. It was a little haphazard, but it moved, and it talked.
"We've got this in the bag, surely." Morgan said to herself as a hand whirred into life and twitched. "The rest of those pricks'll eat their words."
She chuckled, looking up to her shelf. Several intact grenades lay there on display. Despite how risky this seemed, nobody visited Morgan so she had no reason to care about the consequences.
"One way or another..."
With that, she curled up into her duvet, gazing longingly at her project.
"G'night, Henley..."
"Good...bzzzt...Mor..."
Morgan laughed softly and closed her eyes. "I'll work on your voice tomorrow. I have free time before the contest." She murmured before drifting off to sleep.
~The Next Day~
Morgan awoke with a start, bright and early. She could hear the commotion outside from the rest of the participants hastily making thir final adjustments.
On a bunch of shite. Morgan thought with a happy smile. Today, I get out!
She yawned and stretched before swinging herself out of bed and padding over to the project. Gently, she tapped his head and smiled as ights flickered on behind Henleys eyes.
"Mornin Henley. Let's get you fixed up and ready for today."
"R...de...Mor..?"
"Henley...don't talk until I've fixed you, okay?"
Henley nodded, whirring as he did so. He was a Protectron Morgan had found when she was out scavenging after curfew. She'd hid him beside the building her and her community were camped in and secretly worked on him until she'd fixed the Protectrons legs. Once they were working, she got it to walk into her room, where it had resided ever since.
During the long months, Morgan had added some of her own modifications to the Protectron. A grenade launcher, actual eyes, a semi working voicebox and a new coat of paint to name but a few.
Morgan smiled wider and knelt in front of Henley, poking around his voice outputs.
"You are my greatest pride, Henley." Morgan said as she worked. "My only friend in this world of deluded idiots. Honestly, I don't know why I bother turning up to those 'classes'."
"You...d..." Henley stated, static obscuring most of his voice.
"Yeah, you're right. I do. They'd kick me out otherwise. Bunch of arseholes, willing to kick a teen out into the Wasteland cause she didn't follow a few 'rules'. Idiotic..." Morgan continued her tirade of insults whilst she worked. After a couple hours she leaned back, and looked up to Henley.
"Alright, say something Henley. Talk to me."
"I do not see the logic behind something. Something is incalculable."
"Close enough..." Morgan chuckled, standing up and placing her hands on the Protectrons shoulders. "You're ready Henley."
"Input command code to continue. I require primary function."
"Purpose." Morgan nodded before looking seriously into Henleys eyes.
"You do not need me to give you commands or codes, Henley." Morgan whispered quietly. "You can run your own commands...live your own life, you know that right?"
"Live. I am alive." Henley stated. "Primary Command: Protect Morgan. Accept or Decline."
Morgan blinked, admittedly surprised before she burst out into an even bigger grin.
"Accept."
Henley whirred, turning and stomping over to the door. "Primary Purpose: Defence of Human at all costs. Accepted. Hostiles will be eliminated."
Morgan chuckled and grabbed her five grenades from her shelf, stuffing them into her pre-war clothes pockets and rushed over to the door.
"Let's go show em how wonderful you are Henley!"
Morgan pulled open the door, and headed to the centre of the building with pride. Henley followed behind her loyally.
When they reached their designated spot, Morgan stood up on a table and peered around at the competition. She looked a little less happy, and a lot more worried.
"Henley..." Morgan muttered softly as she leaned over the Protectrons head. "I think we might have some stiff competition."
Turned out Morgan wasn't the only one capable of building and restoring Robot parts. A Mr Handy floated casually next to them, his owner snickering at the Protectron.
"Where's its dick, Morgan? Did you get it lost up there?"
Morgan glared at the boy, tempted to shoot him but she eventually grunted and looked away, back out over the hall.
"Judges are coming, let's get to work Henley!"
Morgan hopped down off the crate and proudly presented her greatest work to date. Henley bowed, showed his defensive capabilities and did everything Morgan instructed.
"He could help protect this place." Morgan finished, nodding at the Judges. "If we could find more, we'd never need to fear about bandits again."
The Judges all glanced at each other and nodded as well before scribbling notes down on some faded paper. They moved away soon after that.
A few hours later, everyone regathered in the centre of the building, where a small stage had been set up.
"We'll not keep you all in suspense." One of the Judges, a woman in a lab coat said. "There were some very amazing pieces of work here today. Better than ever before. You make this old professor happy everyone. Truly."
I hope I did the best! To not see the potential in Henley and others like him would be absurd!
"It is therefore, with great honour, I am pleased to announce that the winner of The Capitol Buildings Fiftieth Betterment contest is none other than..."
Morgan...Morgan...Morgan!
"Miles! For his incredibly lifelike Android!"
Morgans face fell and she glared over to the son of their leader.
200 Caps says he was given that Android by his father! There always were rumours about him having connections to the Institute.
Miles stepped up to the stage and sneered, looking directly at Morgan with a smug look on his face as the Android followed.
"Thank you, everyone. My T-106 is capable of anything. He does not falter. He is ruthless. Efficient. A perfect defender for our little hub."
Oh? We'll see about that...
"Henley..." Morgan whispered. "That Android up there is Hostile. He's going to kill me..."
Henley stiffened before whirring into life. "Primary Purpose: Defend citizens. Target: Android. Target Acquired. Initiate Offensive Movements."
Without hesitation, Henley raised his arm and fired a grenade at the Android. It exploded on Impact, destroying him and severely hurting Miles.
Several security guards rounded on the Protectron, drawing their guns and opening fire.
"New Hostiles detected." Henley stated. "De...f...Mo...RUn..."
Morgan stepped back, her eyes watering. "Th-thank you Henley..." She whispered before running on tage and grabbing the Pip-Boy from the dead hands of one of the Judges.
She took one last glance at Henley, swearing he was smiling at her before she nodded and booked it out the building.
Once she was a fair distance away, and with the Pip-Boy strapped to her arm, Morgan turned to look back at the dirty, faded, golden dome of the Capitol Building.
"Henley..."
You helped me make it.
On that thought she sniffed and wiped her eyes before turning and heading into the Wasteland, now with no friends at all.
A.R.C.
"Good day, everyone in the Empire Wasteland." Maxwell's voice echoed from the radio.
"I have some news here... VERY disturbing news. And the manner it has been presented to me... There is no doubt about it that foul things have been at play behind the scenes."
"Our favourite zealots, the PRCT. Have been hard at work in their camp creating a device to control your brain. Yes you heard me! Brainwashing... Now, don't go running off just yet. The only way for them to succeed at this is by planting their antenna on the Empire State Building. This has not yet happened. But it won't take long... So I'm begging all of you, to stop this madness and fight back!... This is Maxwell Maxy Flower, signing out. No music at the moments, guys and gals... Not now."
Curtis remained silent for several seconds after Maxwell finished speaking. "So what now?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.
Maxwell looked up at the ghoul.
"I don't know... But I'm gonna repeat the message some more through the day."
Curtis stood there thinking for a moment, before flicking his Pip-radio to PRCT's frequency. "I'm gonna see if they have anything to say back." he told the DJ before moving towards the door. "Also gonna see how it looks in the streets, be back soon...hopefully." this was punctuated by the door closing as the Ghoul made his way to the street.
Maxwell sighed.
What have I gotten myself into now...?